Into Eternity
by jxr1
Summary: The statues litered the courtyards of the white witches castle. But although they are stone, are their spirits dead? Or do they live on into the endless silence of winter? He was doomed by his own crimes to a eternity of stone. Would he ever be forgiven?


Silence. Cold and deafening. The snow fell softly from the thick clouds overhead, layering the courtyard and coating the landscape.

He looked out towards the dusk covering the plains. So cold. A statue was never meant to experience feelings. Yet always, forever into eternity, he would stare into that endless, choking blanket of white, and inwardly shudder.

The cold was always with him. A heart of stone, that's what she said. Only one with a heart of solid rock would have done what he did. So now the cold remained, for what warmth can be found in a statue?

He remember them all, so sharp and clear. Laughter. Games. Song. Things he never took part in. He always hated them all. Now he longed to hear their voices again. But they were gone. Lost in the darkness and blinding snow. Forever.

She had laughed at him. Had he really thought she would allow him to rule besides her forever if he succumbed to her rule? One by one. Screaming, crying, heartbroken. All had died. And now he was left. The sole heir of his family. Stone. She had given him what he had desired. Immortality. Solitude. Royal blood locked away in a palace of his own. But all was stone. Cold. Unforgiving. Forever.

She often came to visit him still, laughing and taunting him of the old days, back when there was laughter and music. She asked him if he enjoyed his days of peace and solitude, now that there were no others to cause unceasing frustration in his life. She would laugh, and ask him what kind of prince would betray all he knew for a life of stone. Then she would wish him goodnight, and go away.

He shuddered inwardly, motionless. So cold. So silent. Not a word, not even the ability to breath. Only everlasting consciousness, and regret.

Others sculptures were around him. Were they still alive as he was? What a horrible lie, to say that statues never felt pain. For certain, he felt it every second, every hour, every endless day upon endless day. Three hundred years, locked away, coated in ice. Forgotten. Alone. Remembered only in history and memory for his great betrayal. Forever.

He remembered their laughter again, their childish games. His cruelty, their never-ending love. His callousness, their compassion. His hatred, their forgiveness.

A silent scream rent through him, tearing his entire being. So long, he wanted to say he was sorry. So many years, he longed to have them back. And yet day after day, year after year, silence and solitude greeted him. Even sleep was denied him, for what slumber is required for a heart of stone? So many years, so much pain. Unbearable. Inescapable. Unending.

Edmund Pevinsie's gaze lifted from the foothills he was forever forced to look towards and turned to the sky. _Oh, Aslan, what have I done?_ His first prayer rent from his soul past silent unmoving cold lips.

_Forgive me._ A tortured unspoken cry tore itself from his soul, as he gazed upwards in remorse and utter shame. A single snowflake melted unexpectedly, impossibly running unfrozen down the cheek of the sculpture, marking the simple and outline of a tear.

And then there was footfall behind him, but not that of a person. Edmund tried vainly to see beyond his viewpoint, but as always his frozen neck was impossible to turn. Then he felt it for the first time in three hundred years. Warmth. Impossible heat. The padded footsteps continued, until a lion came into his viewpoint. A shudder so strong it shook his stone form ran through Edmund. _It's Him._

Soft, compassionate eyes. Sorrow, love, understanding in their depths.

"It is time."

Warmth. Flooding into his entire body. Tingling in his fingers and toes. Falling, unable to stand. Then he looked up. _Aslan._

There was rebuke in His eyes, but the unconditional love that flowed from His entire being overwhelmed any fear Edmund felt. His price had been paid. Forgiveness lay within reach. Lifting himself up, he marveled at the returned ability to move. Then he put his head in his hands and cried. Sobbing away three hundred years of regret and self-loathing, he gave himself over to the King.

"It is time." The soft yet powerful words were unmistakable. It was time for him to go.

"I'm so sorry, Aslan," Edmund choked out, lamenting his past life and longing for the seemingly impossible second chance.

The King's eyes overflowed with tears of His own as he folded His long lost son into His embrace. Forgiveness had been waiting for Edmund, even as he turned it down in his shame and despise at his own weakness. And now it was time for the Lion of Judah to take him home.

Edmund felt himself being lifted up as though he were flying. He saw his statue down below, ever gazing towards the hills. But he was no longer a part of it. It would stand forever, but he would no longer be there. Free. At last. For all eternity.

Then he heard it. Music. Laughter. Others calling out to him, rejoicing at the knowledge that he would be joining them soon. He looked outwards and saw the city. Streets of gold, gates of pearl. Emerald, ruby, jasper, and amethyst. Countless other stones bathing the heavens in a world of color. Great and majestic buildings, filled with song. Endless laughter, peace, joy and harmony. He looked behind him, and saw a lamb where Aslan had been standing. Deep, loving, compassionate eyes greeted his own. Aslan. Lion of Judah and Lamb of God. Edmund felt himself smile for the first time in three hundred years. He heard his sisters and brother calling out to him, and he knew inwardly that the deeds of the past would no longer be remembered. He laughed with sudden delight and ran to greet his family. He was home.

_For when I was lost in sin, He came and set me free._

_For God so loved the world, He sent His only Son, that whoever believes in Him will never die but have eternal life._

_ – John 3:16 _


End file.
